Scared Yet
by the corrupted quiet one
Summary: Kenny and Tammy watch Friday the 13th together on a rather dull night. Tammy's the tough girl, but even Jason spooks her. Kenny's POV, Kammy fluff, T for language!


It's ten o'clock. Stars light the sky outside, moon shining on the fresh layer of snow and all the trash on my front lawn.

Everything's pretty peaceful tonight, lifting another trouble from my shoulders. Mom's still at the Olive Garden in Denver washing dishes, Dad's out drinking his weight in scotch, Kevin's visiting our friendly neighbourhood drug dealer to arrange another bundle for the family, and Karen's having a sleepover at one of her friend's houses (at least one of us looks to be turning out right).

I've got the house to myself, free to do whatever I please. And, lucky for me, I knew just how to spend the night.

I take another sip of Budweiser as I watch Jason chase down some college dumbasses on the little fourteen inch TV. My feet rest on the shaky coffee table, one of our many vagabond kitties, Britney, curled up at my ankle. The couch ain't comfy—it never really is—but it's cosy enough. Best of all, I had my arm around the most beautiful girl in the world; Tammy Warner.

Tammy's side presses to mine, leaning her head on me. Pamela, yet another of our cat legion, sits on her lap, letting my girlfriend pet her to her heart's content. I hear her gasp softly watching the movie, a year older but still a bit psyched by a psycho retard in a hockey mask chopping bitches in the woods.

I sneak a peek at her from the corner of my eye, pretending that the remake of Friday the 13th was any good.

Like I said, she's a year older than me—a fine 17—and I'm probably the luckiest fucker in the school. Tammy isn't like the anorexic whores known as the cheer squad; she's got some muscle on her. Although not the thinnest of the student body, there's no way anyone could call her fat (least not without me kicking their ass). She curves in all the right places, hips just a bit wider than the waist and a pretty pair of double Ds on her chest. She's got some stubble patches on her legs, but for the most part they're pretty damn smooth, almost baby soft. She always had a habit of coming over and taking off some needless clothes, usually taking off her heavy leg warmers and coat so she could roam the indoors in a skirt and a tank top, almost always with a midriff. I like her belly though, it's squishy. Plus she's always got one of those belly button rings on.

She shivers, leaning more on me. Her sparkling amber eyes widen as the last group of twenty year old morons scramble around the house to find safety.

I smirk—fuck, I can't help it—she's just too cute...

"Is my baby getting scared?" I ask playfully, fiddling with her chocolate brown hair, watching the caramel highlights shimmer.

She turns her head, staring up at me. She blinks a couple times, trying to hide her fear from me. Tammy likes looking like the tough girl, just another thing I love about her.

"I'm not scared, Ken," Tammy frowns, patting Pamela's fuzzy golden back, "Ya can quit askin'."

She kinda got pissed when I asked her during the opening credits, so I shouldn't be too shocked that she's bitchy after the...either eighth or ninth time. Oh well, her little clinging tendency makes it kinda obvious. I'm always right after all! ...unless I'm wrong, but that's another story. I'm right about this.

"Well I guess you're shivering 'cause you're freezing your ass off," I tease, "I don't blame you for latchin' onto me though, my sexiness does keep me pretty damn hot."

"You're hot cause ya always wear a parka, Ken," She muses, scratching under Pamela's chin.

"I'm pretty sure it's my sexy," I wink.

She just rolls her eyes, and then looks back at the TV.

I take another sip of beer, watching the whorish blonde hide under the dock, staring up between the gaps in the planks as Jason walks above her. After seeing this movie around thirty or forty times, I know she isn't gonna make it.

But Tammy doesn't.

She tenses up beside me, scotching closer as the girl in the movie looks around.

"He's not gonna see you...don't move..." Tammy whispers, hand trembling as she strokes my cat. Fuck her hand, her whole damn body's shaking like California!

The blonde in hyperventilates, smiling when she sees Jason seem to turn and walk off.

Tammy sighs in relief, grinning herself as the blonde starts laughing, oh so proud of herself for avoiding a possibly gruesome murder.

Wait for it...

_SLINK!_

Right through the skull. That's what you get for not wearing a bra, whore.

Tammy screams. Fuck, I didn't even know she could scream that _loud_.

Pamela meows, leaping off her human perch as Tammy jumps on me, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck, quivering.

Much as I love when bitches freak and come right into my arms, Tammy kinda got me off balance.

"Jesus Christ!" I shout, tumbling off the couch and onto the floor, bringing Tammy with me. The beer drops from my hand, bouncing off the arm of the couch and landing on the floor somewhere. Judging from a scratchy meow in that direction, it spilt on another cat. Oops.

Tammy buries her face in my chest, trying to calm down. I can't even hear the damn movie anymore, only hearing a bunch of angry protests from the cats and the sound of Tammy's slurred mutterings.

But, ya know, that's alright.

I doubt I'd have it any other way.

"Shh..." I stroke her sleek hair to comfort her, "It's just a movie..."

She looks up at me, still shaking some. She bits her lip, whimpering softly, giving me puppy dog eyes. Even tough girls get freaked by maniacs with knives.

"Hey, I know I ain't much..." I squeeze her tighter, "But I'll protect ya. Don't gotta be scared."

Tammy pauses, letting my words sink in. I ain't that much of a deep person-or I at least don't act much like one-but those words mean a lot for her. Really can't blame her; her parents are about as sweet as mine. Us poor pieces of white trash gotta stick together, right?

A smile spreads across her face, the fear draining from her eyes. A loving gleam comes to the amber as she leans up, pressing her soft lips against mine.

Didn't expect it, but fuck, I ain't complaining. I kiss her back, tasting her sweet cherry cola lip gloss, savouring the moment.

Did the cats shut up yet? The movie still on? Oh who the fuck cares.

"You're the best Ken," She whispers against my lips.

I smirk. That girl really is sugar and spice and everything nice.

"I fucking love you," Yup, a goddamn romantic poet since third grade.

"I love you too."

Those are the only words I had to hear.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: OMG STRAIGHT FLUFF! Yeah, I saw the Ring the other day and...well I actually really like Tammy. If Damien and Christophe and Gregory can have a huge fanbase, why can't Tammy get a little love? I actually thought Kenny and Tammy made a fairly good couple. Better than him and that other girl (lol I forget her name atm OTL).**

**Don't worry everyone, I should be cranking out more homosex soon. This is just some wank that came out of my brain at six in the morning. Lots of random wank seems to be spewing out even though I've got other things to do :P**

**Anyway, thanks for reading this bit of (crappy) fluff! Hope ya enjoyed. Leave a review and yell at me that it's not gay enough. Updates should be coming soon...but I'm kind of just derping around to no end. I wrote some of this on TitanPad (which is just like PiratePad only it works), so thanks to those of you chilling with me (Beth, Lin, Marmar; love y'all). **

**Okay, til next time! Thanks again! I'll go back to slash now :P ~CQO**


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